Mass Effect: Hold Back This Day
by mstearn80
Summary: What would happen if three races in Mass Effect were forced to live together on one planet? Well, this will sort of provide an answer of what would happen if aliens had lived on the same planet as Humans. In this grindhouse Sci-Fi, you shall get your answer.
1. Chapter 1

In the city of Lexington, on the Southwestern Coast of North America, there was Ghedsabar Tower, the headquarters of a Batarian-owned media company that spouts progressive propaganda to Humans. For centuries, the Batarians controlled finance, education, and the mass media. With two of them, they told young, naive Humans to stop breeding, while subtly encouraging Salarians and Asari to have children in human territories—and render Human births below replacement in the process. They also ran NGOs that shipped Asari and Salarians into Human territory by the millions per year. To anyone who was aware, Batarians were enacting a demographic genocide on Humanity and have been doing so for fifty years. It was time for revenge.

Inside the concrete, executive parking garage, Dudley was setting thermite charges on the supports—to collapse the building and leave before the LPD could respond. Behind him were the corpses of several guards, three with slit throats, and four were killed with a silenced 45. caliber handgun. Setting the bombs, he set the timer. The digital clock read ten minutes and forty-five seconds.

Now he went to the next phase of his plan: kill Krelobe Ghedsabar and the rest of his xeno-filth family. Grabbing a 308. bullpup, automatic rifle from his back, he made it up to the elevator, where he used the severed head of a Batarian security guard to pass a retinal scan. Inside, he fought through a battalion of security guards. With a three round burst, he blew the other guards head into a red pulp of brains, blood and skull fragments. Firing a barrage of 308. hollow points, his enemies laid on the floor, dead on the bloodstained carpet.

Office workers fled the scene when they saw the bodies and the armed man. All of them, one by one, fled the area via the emergency stairs. Dudley hewn the head of another fallen Batarian with an ornate shortsword, severing the Batarian's head with one graceful stroke, and took the head to the retinal scanner of the next executive elevator, the one that lead to the board room—above him.

He loaded a magazine into his rifle, mashed the severed head against retinal scanner, went in, and pressed the "up" button inside the elevator.

As the elevator was going up, he looked at how ornate the elevators the executives used. There was gold-plated, Greek livery from corner to corner, and the elevator was chrome plated with a touchscreen that allowed the passenger to watch videos as he ascended.

Inside, the board room, he encountered no guards, just panicked executives: some Human, some Asari. Dudley had lined them up and shot them all execution style. Blood covered the ornate tiled floor, eyeballs and viscera as well. Dudley shot the Asari an additional amount of times, emptying half a magazine into a single corpse.

One salarian survived, escaping with both legs almost severed from the cavitation of the full-powered rifle cartridges.

"You're not escaping, vermin!" He said, as he crushed the Salarian's head into a green, chunky paste with the heel of his boot.

After the Salarian was finished off, a trio of Asari accountants ran out. Dudley switched his rifle to semi and fired three rounds, all hitting them in the torsos and they crumpled from the pain and shock.

* * *

Klaxons were flaring in Ghedsabar's office, his face shocked and terrified from the Human rampaging in the board room. Krelob couldn't get a good look at the Human, but he had brown hair and alabaster skin, a square head and jaw. He was heavy, in muscle. The man looked to be around 260-290, most of that weight muscle, which explains how he could fire a battle rifle accurately with no recoil, and effortlessly crush skulls.

Elite operatives from the NKSDF (New Khar'Shan Defense Force) were assigned to protect him. These soldiers each had a thousand kills against the resistance who were originally colonists from Albion, and they slaughtered the Salarians that resided there for almost two thousand years before Man set foot in Africa.

"Get the police down here. Now," cried his wife, Asari starlet Vaesus.

He grabbed the phone from his desk, put it to his pointed ear, and called the police officer, Zane Buford, the cop whom he paid off to turn a blind eye to the kidnapping and killing of a Human child on his eighteenth birthday, where Batarians eat Xonem (Human/cattle) children for their great feast. Humans were cattle to the Batarians. In fact, every species that wasn't Batarian was considered cattle.

Zane Buford replied, "We've got our hands tied trying to arrest a man who gunned down fifty-one Asari at an Athame Temple and livestreamed it on social media. I can't help you at the moment."

"Karsa, the Batarians are your chosen people. How could you let this happen to us?" cried Krelob.

"Ever since those seven security guards' vitals went dark in the parking garage, everything's gone to shit," lamented Krelob.

"Now we're trapped in here with a Human Supremacist murderer," said Vaesus grimly.

Then looking at the computer terminal on his desk, Krelob found out to his horror that the vitals of the elite soldiers he hired from his people's homeland had gone dark as well. His four eyes were darting across the room, alert to his fate at the hands of the man from the security camera footage. Then he heard a sound and a blinding flash of light.

As soon as the explosion occurred, his wife was shot. The bullet entered her forehead, leaving a cone of purple blood, brains, and bone fragments in its path from the back. Enraged, he took a handgun from his desk and aimed for the cloud of smoke, but a round struck his wrist. The high velocity round shattered the radius and ulna bones and his wrist expanded in a millisecond and tore itself apart from the sheer kinetic energy, severing the lower portion of his arm as the cavitating flesh contracted.

As the smoke faded, Krelob could see a tall Human male with green eyes, and, by all other accounts, matched the security camera footage. He had a suit of armor on, made from scavenged pieces of police flak vests and riot gear, and gloves made from a strange blue hide.

Grabbing a golden-hilted gladius from the sheath strapped to his thigh, the man hewn Krelob's head from his neck. Krelobe could feel his life fading as his head rolled on the floor. The man picked it up and gazed into Krelob's black, soulless eyes.

"You are trophy to place on my mantle, Krelob," said the tall man with a smile, as Krelob's life force faded.

* * *

Taking his trophy to the executive garage, Dudley placed it in a blue leather bag in his van, got in the driver's seat, placed the keys in the ignition, and drove off.

On his way to the redwoods, he found junkies, prostitutes, and all varieties of degenerates produced by the Batarian-controlled media and educational system. Some turned to drugs and sexual hedonism out of despair, as the influx of xeno migrants caused an increase in housing price, causing the younger generation of Humans to be priced out by Asari and Salarian buyers increasing the demand and thus the price. Most Humans when they turned twenty were relegated to their parents' houses, apartments or even tents under over passes.

Despite the depressive nihilism, and reasons to be nihilistic, Dudley hated these people for trying to find enjoyment when they could be taking their revenge and actually cleansing the Batarian vermin from the Earth, unlike putting them in labor camps like Third Empire Albion. The Batarians lied and claimed the Albionites murdered five million of them in a genocide. However, Casper Thomas, the king, only wanted them exiled from all Human territories. Thomas wasted away in a Deutschlander Prison and died from cancer just a few years ago, a rattled and broken man for his mercy.

Outside the redwoods, the houses were dilapidated structures filled with Asari, Salarian and Human families, the non-human youths joining gangs and selling drugs. Humans were a minority, mostly old and poor, unable to afford to flip the house or move to retirement homes. Looking at these filled Dudley with hopelessness, but he kept trying; it was better than standing by and going out quietly into the night, and he didn't want his species to as well, but his sadness turned to seething rage before a tear could be shed.

Miles into the redwoods, he went into a cave, flicked a switch deeper in, and the lights turned on. Then he took Krelob's head, put it in a large jar of formaldehyde, and placed it on the mantle of the fire place, where he also cooked food he got from hunting in the redwoods, ranging from deer, bear, and xeno hikers.

On television, an Asari was reporting next to the large pile of rubble that was once Ghedsabar News Network.

"Tragedy struck as thousands were killed by a building collapse. Fire departments have unearthed no leads as of today, but they are still sifting through the rubble. The collapse is estimated to have killed five hundred people, and the owner and his wife are now missing. Authorities speculate that either faulty construction or terrorism lead to the collapse. This is Chaera signing off."

"Thank you for that report Chaera," said the Salarian News Anchor, Gimar Lizona.

"In other news, a mass shooting had happened at the Athame Temple on Porter Drive. There, a man opened fire with a semi-automatic rifle purchased from the Albion Arms Co. Gun Store franchise. He killed fifty Asari and livestreamed it. His motive: fear of losing his planet to the alien horde, where he dehumanizes non-Humans. His name is Jeffrey Jackson, he's in prison, and faces life.

"Fuckin' amateur," laughed Dudley.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Mass Effect

**A/N: **I always write my stories in a sort of Grindhouse style, so expect lots of over the top gore, blood, and violence. I sorta got the inspiration from eighties and modern grindhouse flicks. Therefore, if you don't like over the top violence, read Psi Effect or any other fanfic on this site. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

After killing Ghedsabar, Dudley planned out his next target. He planned to target Edwin Scheer, mayor of Lexington, and a presidential candidate for the Social Democrat party—a political group that promotes multi-specism. That was a theory that multiple species can live, work, share cultures, and procreate. The only problem was that it contributed to the decline of Human numbers on Earth, and only economic prosperity and material comfort could hold such a system together. If material comfort were to vanish and the economy were to collapse, Humans, Salarians, and Asari would have been killing each other on the streets There'd be no chaos in the countryside or suburbia, as those regions are mostly Human, with the occasional rich Asari or Batarian in the mix that would be lynched by a mob of Humans.

For his plan, Dudley grabbed a 12 gauge, double-ought buck shotgun that, as apposed to regular shotguns, was semi-automatic and magazine fed. He had a .45 handgun as his sidearm. And for hand-to-hand combat, he utilized a gladius, to hew the limbs off of xenos and species traitors alike. He fitted a holographic site onto the sight rail of his shotgun, sharpened his sword, and got inside his armored van.

He drove for miles until he made it to Scheer Manor, where the traitorous mayor and his family dwelt. The building was large and had many sections. By Dudley's guess, there was probably around several bedrooms, each as large as the average individual's apartment in Dudley's generation. The house was built in a lavish, Greek-revival architectural style in 1940. The Scheers were wealthy family in Lexington, and like a lot of wealthy humans, they wanted immigration from alien territories to take care of the shrinking, aging majority of Humans that make up New Albion. Asari and Salarians were used by Human CEOs as cheap, blue labor to displace the Human working class, who demanded higher wages and a better standard of living.

Dudley lined up a shot with his silenced 45. pistol on two bodyguards. He fired one shot. The round penetrated both their craniums, killing one and knocking the other unconscious. Noticing security cameras that almost caught a glimpse of him, Dudley fired two shots. The cameras were flopping, smoking ruins with crackling sparks.

Inside the dead bodyguard's pocket, Dudley reached for keys and opened the door. Inside, he crept around the house. There, he found two paintings. He grabbed a folding knife from his utility pocket and cut the paintings out of the frames. He planned to make this look like a carefully set up robbery. Then, once he finished that, he went up the stairs. He cut out more paintings from the frames. It was early in the morning, so their lights weren't on yet. He stored them in the duffel bag on his back. His plan: sell them on the Dark Net to fund the mother of all attacks on the anti-Human system the Batarian Occupied Government has set up against his people.

Right next to him, as he was cutting out another painting from its picture frame, this one made by an Asari artist. It depicted the Asari noblewomen, Aleatia, the wife of the king of Hispania. During the middle ages, Europe was the only place on the globe that had a homogeneous Human population. The Asari and Salarians were able to displace and replace any group of Humans inside the equator, but due to the fact their worlds were about as hot as Mesozoic Earth, it was impossible with their limited technology to inhabit Europe for long without suffering vitamin deficiencies due to the lower levels of sunlight and the harsher winters of Europe and Eurasia.

Despite the monetary value of that piece of artwork, Dudley wanted tear it apart in anger. Recently, the Batarians started pushing the narratives that Asari, not mankind built Terran Civilization. The older generations thought these were nothing more than conspiracy theories, but the younger generations were indoctrinated by the anti-Human propaganda machine into believing Humans invented nothing and stole Terran Civilization from the Asari and Salarians.

Dudley, however, withheld his feelings of anger and despair and put in it in the duffel bag, zipped it up, and continued onward.

Further on, he encountered the family butler and nanny, an asari woman with big breasts and wide hips. By Dudley's guess, Edwin was probably fucking her too. His wife looked awfully saggy after losing a hundred pounds, so it would make sense.

With one round still left in the chamber, Dudley fired one shot at the auditory gills of the Asari. She crumpled on the silken floor in a second, in a pool of purple blood and brain matter. After that, Dudley stashed her corpse in a broom closet and proceeded to the study.

There, he met Edwin Gregory Scheer, mayor of Lexington and the Social Democrat Presidential Candidate.

Scheer was tall, around six feet, four inches tall and weighed eighty-eight kilograms. He had a handlebar mustache and a Greek nose, grey eyes, and mustard blond hair.

"It was only a matter of time, I suppose," said Scheer grimly.

"You're one of those Human Supremacists who's enraged that he's getting replaced in his own territories. It's justice for what our imperialistic ancestors done to them. The Asari tribes native to North America were wiped out by colonists from Albion."

"That was mostly disease and Humans have been on Earth since the Pleistocene, probably when these aliens were beating rocks together on their worlds. Hell, dysgenic breeding as a result of being slaves to the Batarians already renders them stupider than the average Human, and their countries aren't even out of the Middle ages,"stated Dudley angrily.

"Besides, won't you're children and children's children live as a persecuted minority in the civilization their ancestor's built, Scheer?"

"I'll be bones in a coffin long before then, so I don't care," smiled Scheer.

"Very well. If you refuse to grant your posterity a future, then you should not have one either," smirked Dudley in contempt.

Dudley rubbed a hullucinigenic powder in Edwin's face and handed Scheer his folding blade. After that Scheer walked up to the mirror with a knife and started to cut into his cheeks, laughing hysterically while doing so. Dudley smiled. Sawing off a piece of his cheek, Scheer gave the discarded flesh to his dog while laughing.

After several cuts and feeding parts of his own face to his dog, Scheer collapsed. Dudley placed the silenced gun in Edwin's hand, walked out of the building, and called in a tip to the Lexington Police Department with Scheer's cellphone. He snapped the phone in two, and drove into the sunrise in his van, back to his hideout.


End file.
